


Harry Zoolander

by pottermum



Category: Harry Potter JKR
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 09:25:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4782212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pottermum/pseuds/pottermum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A well known American photographer has come to do a photo shoot of our favourite Holyhead Harpy. When a male model doesn't turn up, Harry is coerced to take his place. Luckily, there are fringe benefits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry Zoolander

**Author's Note:**

> Any similarity between real people is purely for entertainment, and no harm intended.

Harry checked the address and knocked on the door. “Hello,” he called out.

The door opened and a small witch looked out. “Hello,” she said politely.

“Hi,” greeted Harry, looking over her shoulder for a glimpse of his wife. “I brought the motorbike for the photo shoot.”

“Oh great, can you bring it into the studio. We're so far behind today, the photographer is-”

“Lizzy, where are you?” a voice cried out.

“-going a little bit crazy,” smiled Lizzy., She opened the door to let him wheel Sirius' old motorbike in. “Nice wheels,” she admired. “Looks like a classic.”

Harry nodded, still looking around for Ginny. “Uh-huh.”

Someone walked past with two scraps of green and gold on a hanger. “Where's the dressing room? I have Miss Weasley's outfit.”

“Potter,” said Harry. As both Lizzy and the wardrobe assistant looked at him, he shrugged. “She's married. She's Ginny Potter now.” 

Lizzy pointed and the wardrobe assistant walked off. “The photographer, he's not really going to shoot her in just those scraps, is he?” asked Harry worriedly.

“SHE sure is,” said Lizzy, directing him to where she wanted the bike. “The photographer is a witch. Annie, Annie Liebewitch. She's a world renown photographer. It's quite a coup, getting her to do the calendar. She does all the Muggle celebrities, you know.”

Ginny had mentioned something about that at dinner last night. Yesterday she'd taken photos of Ginny flying at the Holyhead stadium. Today was the glamour shots. She hadn't mentioned the skimpy outfits though. 

Suddenly Harry heard a ruckus. The wardrobe assistant walked out in a huff. “She refuses to wear it. I can't work like this,” he sniffed.

“Why don't you let me talk to her?” asked Harry, taking the clothes hanger and the two scraps off him.

“Whatever!” said the diva wardrobe assistant. “Quidditch players, honestly! Who does she think she is?”

Harry wandered back to the direction the wardrobe assitant had just come from. He could hear Ginny's voice as plain as anything. “No, I will NOT be wearing those scraps. I don't care who ordered them,” she said, forceably.

Harry knocked on the door. A different witch answered it. “Yes?”

“I'd like to see Ginny, please,” he said.

The witch hesitated, but Ginny opened the door. “Oh, Harry,” she sighed in relief. “You made it.”

They hugged and as they did they could hear someone call out. “Where is the male model? I'm ready to shoot.”

“That's Miss Liebewitch,” said the witch, Sally. She looked worried, then eyed Harry up and down. “You'll have to do.”

“Excuse me?” asked Harry and Ginny together.

“The male model hasn't turned up. Probably partying too much with that Kardashian girl. It's been all over the Muggle tabloids,” she sighed. 

“Er, I'm not a model,” said Harry.

“Nonsense. You look fit, let's have a look at you,” said Sally. She began to take his t-shirt off, to Ginny's amusement.

“Oy, I normally don't let any witch but my wife do that,” quipped Harry, as it was pulled over his head.

“Hmm, not bad. No tattoos, that's a shame. Muscles aren't as big as I'd like. Ooh, lots of scars though,” said Amy.

Ginny stepped protectively in between them. “You have no idea what he went through to get every single scar,” she said defensively.

“Sally, where is my model and my Quidditch star,” screamed Annie.

“Your jeans should do fine. I'll just oil your body, and get you into hair and make-up,” said Amy, hurriedly.

A wizard knocked on the door. “The boss wants to know how much longer?” he asked.

Sally poured oil on her hand and started to rub it over Harry's torso. Ginny watched on in amusement at Harry's discomfort. Sally barely even looked at Harry.

“Oh, five minutes, Jamie. Miss Weasley is good to go, she just needs to get into her costume,” said Sally.

“Potter,” amended Ginny.

“Like hell,” said Harry at the same time. He looked over at Ginny. “You're not wearing those scraps.”

“Of course I'm not,” scoffed Ginny. “Aren't you needed in make-up,” she teased. She went behind a screen to change.

“I'm not wearing make-up,” said Harry stubbornly, as he was shoved into a chair. His brothers-in-law would never let him forget it.

“SALLY!” screamed Annie.

“You can just wear your helmet,” said Sally, getting flustered. “This damn hair won't lay flat.”

“Tell me about it,” said Ginny, winking at Harry over the top of the screen.

Jamie knocked on the door again, looking harried. “The boss isn't happy.” He tapped his watch.

“The male model is ready. Miss Potter will be out soon,” said Sally, pushing Harry towards Jamie. He grabbed the helmet on the way out.

“Well hello, handsome,” purred Jamie. Harry scowled at him as he walked out the dressing room.

“Well it's about time. Hmm, you're shorter than I expected. Still, you'll be on the bike. Hop on, please, so I can get some preliminary shots. Nice body. Not too muscly,” said Annie, picking up her camera.

“Just the way I like them,” purred Jamie, licking his lips. Harry jammed the helmet on his head, and sat astride the bike.

“Nice. Grab the handles. More lights, Jamie,”called Annie, pointing where she wanted them. Jamie hustled around.

“Ah, here she is. Jenny, good to see you again,” said Annie.

“It's Ginny, actually,” said Ginny.

Harry turned and his eyes nearly popped out his head. Ginny was wearing a pair of Daisy Duke cut off denim shorts, and a Harpies training tank top, wwhich was tied in a knot under her breasts. Her body had been oiled up too, and looked toned and buff. Harry's mouth watered.

“Yes, yes,” said Annie, waving her hand as if it didn't really matter. “Over here, please. We'll have some shots of you standing next to the bike. Hand on his shoulder. Jamie, light check, please.”

Jamie rushed around. Ginny moved to stand next to Harry. “I can't believe I'm doing this,” chuckled Harry.

Ginny grinned. “Me either.”

“Perfect,” said Annie, snapping away. “Keep going. Get on the bike, slowly.”

“How do you get on a motorbike slowly?” muttered Ginny. She wobbled, and Harry automatically reached out and laid a hand on her thigh, dragging her closer.

“Oh, that's good. Hot,” clicked Annie, as Jamie murmered his agreement, fanning his face. “Play with your hair. Where's that wind machine?” she called. “Keep your hand on her thigh, er, what's his name?” Annie whispered to Jamie.

Jamie shrugged. 

The wind machine started and Ginny's hair blew out. She wrapped a leg around Harry and used both hands to soothe her hair. He kept one hand on the bike and one on her thigh, ocassionally moving it higher.

“Good, good. Smoking,” cheered Annie, moving all around the bike. “Now stand up.”

Ginny placed her feet on the wheel guard and her hands on Harry's shoulders. Tentatively she stood up. 

“Let's get a Harpies cloak on her,” called Annie. “With the wind machine blowing it out, it should look fantastic.”

Jamie hurried over and placed the cloak over her. “You're doing great, gorgeous,” he said.

“Thanks,” giggled Ginny.

“I meant him,” pouted Jamie, pointing to Harry. He gave Jamie the thumbs up but said nothing.

“Let's go, Jamie. Time is money,” lectured Annie. “Wind machine, on.”

Ginny stood tall, with the cloak billowing around her. She looked fierce, like a warrior. “Gorgeous. You're colouring is stunning. It's translating brilliantly on film. Now, I want you to have some fun with your mysterious motorbike rider.”

“What do you mean?” asked Ginny.

“Just have fun with your poses. I'll tell you what's working and what's not. How about we start with you riding the bike, and we'll see how that goes.”

“Okay,” said Ginny. She sat down and hopped off. Harry shuffled back, allowing her to sit on front of him. He put his hands low on her hips.

“Smashing darlings,” called Annie, snapping away. “Keep it going.”

Ginny leaned forward, over the handlebars, then leaned back against Harry's front. He put a hand on her shoulder, and leaned his head toward her. Ginny turned her head, as if she was allowing him access to her neck.

“Yes, yes, more,” said Annie.

Ginny moved away, then completely swung around so she was facing Harry. He leaned over her, to grasp the handles, and she wrapped herself around him. Annie came closer and Ginny winked at the camera.

Harry pushed Ginny back so she was laying against the handlebars, still facing him. He kept one hand on the handle, and one hand slid up her side until it was right over her breast. 

“Je-sus!” cried Annie. She couldn't snap photos quick enough. 

Suddenly she stopped. Harry and Ginny, who were caught up in the moment, took a few seconds to realise she had stopped. “What's wrong?”

Annie stopped. “I think we're done. I've got all I need.”

“Already?” asked Ginny, disappointed. She'd been having fun, and was pleasantly surprised that Harry had thrown himself into it as he had. Truth be told, she was a bit turned on!

“I cannot possibly get any better shots than what I've already got,”said Annie dramatically. “I know perfection, and I've got it.”

Harry took off his helmet. “Whew. Glad that's over.” He kept the bike steady as Ginny got off.

Annie beckoned her over as Jamie rushed to help Harry. “My dear, am I right in hearing that you are a married woman?” 

Ginny nodded. She and Harry had been married in the off season last year, and this year she'd proudly worn the Potter name on her jersey.

“The chemistry between the two of you was off the charts. My dear, I can only hope your husband is understanding when he sees these photos,” said Annie, patting her arm.

“Oh yes, my husband is very understanding,” quipped Ginny, as Harry walked past.

“And what does he do?” asked Annie, as she started to pack away her camera. “Would I have heard of him?”

“No, he's no-one special. Doesn't really like the limelight,” said Ginny, winking at Harry. He patted her ass as he left her to go and wipe the oil off his body and reclaim his t-shirt.

“What's not to like,” gasped Annie. “My dear, my life in the States is all about the limelight. I spend most of my time photographing celebrities. The Muggles pay me obscene amounts of money. In fact, I'm a celebrity in my own right.”

“Yes, I understand we were very lucky to have you do the Harpies calendar. We're very grateful,” said Ginny, remembering the words the Harpies press secretary had said.

“I only did it as a favour for my cousin, Al. He's a huge Harpies fan,” said Annie. “I was visiting him when he asked.”

“Oh yes, 'Weird' Al Yankowitch. He's our Number Two ticket holder. He's quite well known,” smiled Ginny.

“Number two? Who's number one?” asked Annie, puzzled.

“Someone in the Ministry,” said Harry, returning to the two witches. “Miss Potter, may I offer you a ride home?” He gestured to the motorbike.

“Actually, it's Mrs,” said Ginny. “Thank you, I'd like that. I'll just go and get changed. Annie, thank you. You made it fun and easy.”

“No, my dear, thank you. The two of you, whoo,” said Annie, fanning her face. She leaned over to whisper in Ginny's ear. “And if you should detour on the way home, your husband need not know. Your secret would be safe with me, my dear.”

“Oh, he'll know,” said Ginny. She waved her thanks to Jamie and the other staff and walked to the dressing room.

“Wow, you guys looked amazing out there. I can't believe it was your first photo shoot together,” said Sally, as she helped her to undress.

“Second, actually,” said Ginny, remembering her wedding day.

“Ah, that explains the chemistry,” said Sally, nodding. She passed Ginny her shirt, and Ginny thanked her for all her help that day. “Bye,” she called.

She went outside where Harry was waiting on the bike. He started it up and held it steady as she got on the back. She put her helmet on, then wrapped her arms around his waist. He took off and after riding for a while, he pressed a button and the bike became airborn.

Harry and Ginny often flew on the motorbike, and they always enjoyed it. Today was no exception. It was a beautiful afternoon and they had nowhere else to be. Harry drove at a leisurely pace, and Ginny sat back to look at the scenery.

Finally they made it home. Ginny went inside, while Harry parked the bike in the garage. Ginny went upstairs to remove all the makeup she'd had to wear. Sensing movement behind her, Ginny looked at her reflection in the mirror. Harry had come inside to find her, and was leaning against the door jamb.

“So, you were getting right into it,” grinned Ginny, wiping the last of the make-up off. 

“I had fun,” admitted Harry.

“Me too. It was easy with you there. I was worried how I was going to go. Yesterday was fine, just flying and all. But glamour? That's so not me,” said Ginny.

“That's not true,” said Harry, moving to stand behind her and put his arms around her waist. “You always look glamourous when we go to all those Ministry funcions. And sexy as hell.” He nipped her neck.

Ginny chuckled as she moved her head to one side to give him better access, just as she did at the photo shoot. “Only with you. For you.”

Harry took her hand and pulled her into the bedroom. “I really can't wait to see the photos,” she said.

“I really liked your costume,” growled Harry huskily.

“Can you believe what they wanted me to wear at first,” giggled Ginny, as she removed Harry's t-shirt and ran her hands over his torso.

“You mean this?” asked Harry, pulling two scraps of green and gold from his back pocket. He waved it in front of her.

“You took it?” gasped Ginny.

“I'll send them payment on Monday. Now, go be a good little Harpy and put that on for me,” he grinned saucily, patting her ass.

“Harry, don't you know by now there's no such thing as a good little Harpy,” sighed Ginny, shaking her head as she grabbed the scraps and went into the bathroom.

Harry undid his jeans and pulled them off. He lay on the bed, in just his Harpies boxers.

Ginny came out of the bathroom. “You like?” she asked. She came out and started doing some cliché model poses.

“Oh yeah,” murmured Harry appreciatively. “I'm just glad that I'm the only one who gets to see you in it. Come here, my naughty little Harpy.”

 

The Harpies calendar became quite a sensation. They'd used a photo of Ginny flying at the stadium for the month of August. To Ginny's surprise, they'd also released a calendar just of her, incorporating several photos in action during a match, some with her at training, and the rest were of her photo session with Harry. They couldn't keep up with the demand, and it soon sold out.

They hadn't told anyone that Harry had ended up modelling with her. The Daily Prophet ran stories of discord in their marriage, citing her chemistry with the helmeted unnamed model. When the reporters checked with the photography studio, they had no name for the model, and realised he hadn't even been paid. When asked, Annie Liebowitch couldn't even remember the photo shoot. “Jenny Who?” she asked.

They finally admitted it to the Weasleys after most of them had been ambushed by reporters hoping for a scoop on the status of the Potter marriage. At first they didn't believe it, then realised this was a golden opportunity to take the piss out of Harry. He shrugged, not concerned.

“You didn't even get paid?” asked Percy.

“Let's just say there were fringe benefits,” said Harry, thinking about two scraps of green and gold fabric.

Everyone wondered why Ginny blushed and giggled.


End file.
